The Full Monty

Synopsis: Six unemployed steel workers, inspired by the Chippendale's dancers, form a male striptease act. The women cheer them on to go for "the full monty" - total nudity.
Genre: Comedy, Drama
Director(s): Peter Cattaneo
Production: Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment
  Won 1 Oscar. Another 35 wins & 31 nominations.
 
IMDB:
7.2
Metacritic:
75
Rotten Tomatoes:
96%
R
Year:
1997
91 min
4,867 Views


(drum roll)

(projector)

(fanfare)

Welcome to Sheffield!

The beating heart

of Britain's industriaINorth!

The jewel in Yorkshire's crown

is home to over halfa million people,...

..and thousands more

flock here daily to shop and to work.

All this is built on

Sheffield's primary industry,...

..steel.

The city's rolling mills, forges,...

..and workshops employ some 90,000 men...

..and state-of-the-art machinery

to make the world's finest steel.

From high-tensile girders...

..to the stainless cutlery

for your dining table.

But it's not all hard work

for the people of Steel City.

They can spend the day

lounging by the pool,...

..watching one of our top soccer teams,...

..or browsing in the shops.

But when the sun goes down,

the fun really starts...

..in the city's numerous

night clubs and discotheques.

Yes, Yorkshire folk know

how to have a good time!

And it's good times

for the city's housing, too!

Sheffield leads the way in town planning.

Victorian slums have been cleared

to make way for the homes of the future.

Thanks to steel,...

..Sheffield really is...

..a city on the move!

Gaz, who's gonna buy a rusty girder?

- Come on.

- Dad, it's stealing!

No, it's liberating, love. Liberating.

Gaz, hang on.

Ten years we worked in "ere. Now look.

- What if we get caught?

- You don't get a criminal record till you're 16.

- Just don't tell your mum.

- 'ey, listen.

- (brass band plays)

- Music.

Bloody hell!

- What are they doing?

- It's the works band. It's still going.

About only thing round "ere that is.

'ey up! Security guard's back.

(door closes)

"Won't take a minute", he says.

"Won't take a minute." Now what?

Shut up. I'm thinking.

Can't we do normal things sometimes?

This is normal! Int' it, Dave?

Oh, aye. Everyday stuff, this.

I think this bugger's sinking.

Pick it up,

and try and slide it across other side.

That's it.

Oh, f***ing hell, Nathe!

They're 20 quid each, them!

That were your bloody maintenance!

- Oh, sh*t.

- Oh, nice one.

(Dave) Nathe!

Nathan!

- F***ing hell!

- Come "ere, come "ere!

Jesus! Stay still.

Stay still, stay still.

All right.

What's your initiative got to say

about this, then, bog eyes?

'ey up, there's someone coming.

- All right?!

- Aye, not so bad.

'tot so bad"?

"not so bad"?

That's not much of a chuffing SOS!

All right, don't get a benny on.

Sh*t!

Me jeans are bloody soaking!

You should have taken your kit off.

- What's up? Are you shy?

- Don't! Shut it, all right?

'ey up, Dave.

- All right, babe?

- Dad!

What do you reckon, Dave?

Eight? Maybe even a nine.

- You can never tell till you see their tits.

- Dad!

- What's all this?

- It's them Chippendale efforts.

- You what?

- Them dancers. Mum were going on about it.

Oh, you're joking!

She must be getting desperate.

- You all waiting for me, then?

- Yeah! To go home.

You know where to find me

when you tire of them poofs.

- Dad!

- Come on, Gaz, I'm freezing.

"Women only"?

Cheeky buggers!

It's a bloody working-men's club!

I mean, look at the state of that!

What have you got to smile about?

He's got no willy, for starters.

Not in a gym'll help you there, mate!

No decent woman would

be seen dead in there.

Jean would.

Oh, Dave, what's going on?

It's her money, innit?

F***ing hell! You'll let some poof ave his

tackle at your missis?! Where's your pride?!

She's already got you hoovering! I saw it

and I let it go! But this? No, no, no.

- Get her out of here.

- It's women only.

Hurry up, will you? Me feet have gone numb.

That's gratitude for you! We're riding

into Alley of Death for you, you fat git.

It's not my fault I can't fit through.

Right, then. I'll wait "ere and keep guard.

Find Auntie Jean and tell her

Uncle Dave wants a word outside.

- Do I have to?

- Good kid. On you go.

(cheering)

( 'I'm The Leader Of he Gang"

by Gary Glitter)

Come on, come on

Come on, come on! Come on, come on!

Come on!

Let's go!

Come on, come on! Come on, come on!

(crowd) Off! Off! Off!

Come on, come on! Come on, come on!

(cheering)

I'm not waiting in that bloody queue.

I always wanted a nosy in the men's toilets.

Phwoar! Them bloody muscles!

It's not their bodies, Bee.

It's what they do with 'em.

I don't know what you're worrying about,

with you-know-who on your tail.

- Frankie! Do you want my body?

- 'ey, 'ey, 'ey!

Frank don't fancy me

and I don't fancy Frank, right? So give over!

Do you think he might, though?

No. Couldn't do that to Dave.

Not even if I wanted to.

But... you know, it's like he's given up.

Work. Me. Everything.

Ah, love.

"Ere, love. This'll cheer you up.

(giggling)

I weren't in Girl Guides for not!

(women cackle)

(Dave) Gaz!

Gaz! That were our Jean, weren't it?

No, no. Just a couple of old tarts.

I'm going back in for Nathe.

(raucous cheering)

( "Hot Stuff' by Donna Summer)

You're in big trouble.

What about Auntie Jean?

Auntie Jean's busy.

Gonna have some hot love, baby

(Nathan) I don't feel well.

Of course you don't! You've got a hangover.

Take a day off. Stay at home.

Your house is messy. And it's cold.

Come down job club.

That'll be a right laugh.

Mum's house is always warm.

I can't always have the red carpet out for you.

Anyway, it's not your mum's house.

It's whatshisname... Barry's.

Tell you what. Next weekend

I'll have a big tidy round. I promise!

Even go and see a footie game.

- Yeah?

- Yeah. Sunday League down the park.

There's some right good players.

United are playing Man U, aren't they?

You know I can't stretch to that.

You're always making me do

stupid stuff like last night.

Other dads don't do that.

Don't they?

- Aye.

- Aye.

Nathe!

We could try and sneak into Man U.

Terry said...

No!

All right! I'll... I'll get tickets! I will!

Ooh! Aah! Cantona!

Has to wear a girlie bra!

We'll stuff 'em, Nathe.

F***!

I want the application letters finished by the

time I get back. Any problems, I'm outside.

(Gaz) I tell you,

when women start pissing like us, that's it.

We're finished, Dave.

Extincto.

Yeah, I mean...

How? You know...

- How?

- Genetic mutations. They're turning into us.

A few years and men won't exist.

Except in a zoo or summat.

We're not needed no more, are we?

Obsolete. Dinosaurs.

Yesterday's news.

Like skateboards.

Button it!

Some of us are trying to get a job.

And it says no smoking in "ere.

Aye, and it says job club up there.

When did you last see one of them walk in?

(laughter)

You forget, Gerald,

you're not our foreman now.

You're just like the rest of us.

- Scrap.

- Shut it, right?

Hang on, though. Why were all them women

Int' working-men's club int' first place?

Now then! Cos of us. Men.

You call them Chippendales men?

Degrading, that's what it were.

How many lassies were there, though?

Thousands. Baying for blood.

Ten quid to watch some f***ing poof

get his kit off! Ten quid!

Times ten quid by a thousand, right?

And you've got...

Yeah, well, a lot. A very lot.

Rate this script:4.0 / 1 vote

Simon Beaufoy

Simon Beaufoy (born 1967) is a British screenwriter. Born in Keighley, West Riding of Yorkshire, he was educated at Malsis School in Cross Hills, Ermysted's Grammar School and Sedbergh School, he read English at St Peter's College, Oxford and graduated from Arts University Bournemouth. In 1997 he earned an Academy Award nomination for Best Original Screenplay for The Full Monty. He went on to win the 2009 Academy Award for Best Adapted Screenplay for Slumdog Millionaire as well as winning a Golden Globe and a BAFTA award. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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